


Of Leather and Blades

by MoonCat163



Category: Loki Fandom - freeform - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Don’t copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Loki appears to be injured, Loki has a lot of knives, Loki is a walking arsenal, Reader gets upset, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: imagine-loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonCat163/pseuds/MoonCat163
Summary: Imagine Loki letting you undress him.  His clothes are many-layered and complicated, so its no easy task. He’s being very patient though, or else he enjoys watching you struggle. What’s more, you keep finding knives hidden away in secret pockets or between folds of leather. In fact, Loki is armed to the teeth. It’s only when you’ve extracted more than his weight in weapons that you realize that it’s all a prank and he’s been summoning them to hinder you.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Kudos: 77





	Of Leather and Blades

When Jarvis let you know that the team was back from a brief mission, you were taking inventory in a medbay triage room. As a medic, it wasn’t your rotation to go into the field, but you and several others were on standby in case you were needed. 

“Great, thanks.”

“Loki is on his way to the medbay, as well.”

That didn’t concern you too much, since they’d been gone for about a week, and he was likely eager to see you. He never needed medical attention, so you kept working, and had almost finished when you heard his voice. 

“Pet?”

You turned with a smile, but then your heart fell to the pit of your stomach when you saw him; you _felt_ the blood drain from your face. He hadn’t cleaned up, and had small wounds on his face but it was the blood on his clothes beneath the armor that had you scrambling toward him. He had a hand pressed against his side, and that sight left you panic stricken. 

“Loki!”

You grabbed him by the arms and dragged him closer to the bed (well, he _allowed_ you to drag him), where you started to yank armor off. First were the vambraces on each forearm, along with the daggers that were hidden there. The armor went on one end of the bed while the knives went to the other. 

Next went the pauldrons on his shoulders, after you’d unclipped his cape and laid it aside. His leather outer coat was next, as well as the daggers in the inside pockets. The pile on the bed steadily grew as you got through each layer of leather and armor without much trouble. 

In your panicked state, it never occurred to you to ask him to remove the armor via seidr, nor that his body would naturally heal itself within a few hours of the injury. So, you kept on undoing buckles, all the while tossing aside the many knives that you came across. Idly you wondered how on earth he carried so much metal: it had to weigh as much as he did, given the two separate piles of weapons and armor. 

Finally, you removed the heavy chest plate, and after setting it aside, were relieved to finally see the padded shirt that he wore underneath it all. There weren’t any buttons to unfasten, so you reached for a dagger, intending to cut it off. It was at that point that he realized that you genuinely thought he was injured; he’d been conjuring new knives as you found them, waiting for you to catch on to the prank. 

“Darling...” Loki grasped your wrist so that he could gently slip the blade out of your hand. “That’s not necessary.”

“I have to see the wound!” You told him as you reached for another knife. 

“It’s not my blood,” he replied, hesitantly. 

“Wha-what?” You weren’t sure that you’d heard him correctly. 

“No,” he said, softly, and shook his head. 

You reached out and pulled his shirt up, just to verify, but only saw slight bruising on his ribs. Silently, you released the shirt and stepped back from him. 

“I thought you were hurt.” You couldn’t wrap your brain around the fact that he’d let you believe it while you’d frantically disarmed and disrobed him. “I just...I just spent fifteen minutes getting that off you...and you let me think that you were hurt…”

“I didn’t intend-“ His voice trailed off when you turned away from him and left the room. 

“My shift is over, I’m going now.”

By the time he took the few steps to the hallway, you were gone, and several of your colleagues gave him bewildered looks. Loki realized that he’d royally screwed up (as Stark would put it), and resolved that if he ever had blood on him again, he’d take the time to clean up before you saw him. 

“What did you do??” Were the first words he heard as he stepped off the elevator on the Avengers level, and of course, they would come from Stark, as luck would have it. 

“It’s none of your concern!” Loki snapped. 

When Loki entered your bedroom (not the one in his suite that you’ve shared for the last year), he found you sitting on the side of your bed. You got up immediately with the intention of taking refuge in the bathroom, but he used a clone to block the path long enough to gently grasp both your wrists. 

“Don’t, darling,” he murmured. 

When you noticed that he’d changed out of the remaining armor, tears stung the back of your eyes. You couldn’t look at him because you knew that you’d immediately burst into tears, so instead stared at the center of his chest. 

“Look at me?” 

He sighed when you shook your head, so he slid his arms around you and pulled you close, with an arm around your back, and a hand in your hair. He rested his cheek against the top of your head, and simply held you. 

“I am sorry,” he murmured. “It never occurred to me to stop you. I was so eager to see you, and rather thought you’d recognize the prank.”

You realized that he was remorseful about what had happened, and you were chagrined that you'd gotten angry and hurt over nothing. After a moment, you put your arms around him and hugged him before pulling away. He let you go, but tilted your face up so that he could meet your eyes. 

“Am I forgiven?”

“Yes, as long as you forgive me for acting the way I did.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he replied, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Okay, then. Sit down, I’ll be right back.”

He obeyed and waited while you went into the bathroom to fetch something. When you returned, you had cotton balls and a bottle of liquid in the other. 

“Is that the stuff that burns?” He asked, warily. 

“Hmmm, I don’t _think_ so,” you replied, as you studied the label. “Guess we’ll find out.”

Before he could escape, you planted yourself on his thigh while soaking a cotton ball with the liquid. When you reached toward his face, you nearly burst into laughter to find he’d shut his eyes tightly, but made no move to avoid your ministrations. 

“Loki, it’s just sterile water,” you told him. “These cuts have already scabbed over and healed. I’m just cleaning the dried blood.”

“Oh.”

He sat still until you were finished and had put everything aside before he kissed your temple. 

“I was just so frightened and caught off guard,” you whispered. 

“I know,” he replied. “I won’t let this happen again.”

“See that you don’t, or next time, I’ll use the stuff that burns,” you told him, while trying to be stern. 

“Deal.” His grin told you that he didn’t believe that at all. 

With that, he lightly kissed your face before pressing his lips to your temple once more, with a soft “I love you” that made your skin tingle and your heart skip a beat. He always apologized so sweetly whenever he was in the wrong, and you could never stay angry with him for long.


End file.
